


Fingertips

by Cruisinwritealong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, Fluff, Hogwarts, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV Remus Lupin, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruisinwritealong/pseuds/Cruisinwritealong
Summary: He can stop my entire world with just his fingertips. ‘I love you’ they say. I flip my hand, letting my fingertips drag against his before lacing our fingers together. ’So goddamn much’ I say back.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100





	Fingertips

It’s early, too bloody early, but I finally have an appetite again after the last moon and it’s woken me with a vengeance so here I am.

I pile food on my plate without shame because there’s only a handful of people in the Great Hall at this hour and they blessedly don’t give a shit about me. And, oh thank fuck, the tea is scalding and slap-you-in-the-face strong, just the way I like it.

I’ve finished my first plate and making a second when Prongs strolls in. His practice uniform is pristine and it looks like he ironed it, christ. It’s probably his favorite possession, just behind his formal team uniform, his snitch, and his wand. He lives for the Marauders, pulling pranks, wooing and/or annoying Lilly Evans depending on your perspective, and all things quidditch. 

He sits across from me and piles as much or more than I did without a second thought. He doesn’t even glance around. I’m envious of his obliviousness and complete disregard for other people’s opinions. He’s like a duck in the waters of judgement. How does he do that?

“Morning, my Moon Man!”

Oh god, he’s cheery. I might be sick. He grins at me with all his teeth before shoveling an alarming amount of eggs into his mouth. He makes a little mmm sound and dances his shoulders around like a prat. He knows he’s pushing my buttons.

I glare at him, but this just makes him crack up. I keep eating so I don’t throw my tea in his smug, chipper face. I do not waste tea.

Prongs is a morning person, gag me. I love him like a brother but I hate mornings and morning people. I will never understand someone who can just open their eyes and spring out of bed ready to take on the day! Just... no.

I also hate things I don’t understand, but that’s a train-of-thought for another day.

Peter is the complete opposite of James. Peter would happily function as a nocturnal being and sleep til sunset if he had his way. He almost never eats breakfast and I don’t expect to see him much today, being Saturday and all.

I suppose I fall somewhere in the middle. I just treasure rest whenever I can get it. I view sleep as a gift, sometimes as a treasure hunt. Sometimes my body shuts off without consulting my brain. Sometimes my brain retaliates going into overdrive and refusing to shut down. And then sometimes - more and more frequently actually, now that I think about it - I can hack them both and get several hours of peaceful bliss-out.

Like last night... after he rolled off me, after I came for the _second_ time, _Merlin_ , and he tucked his head on my shoulder with the softest sigh, and I ran my fingers through his gorgeously long, ridiculously soft hair, and I kissed his sweaty forehead and-

“Mooon-nyyy, penny for those thoughts," he says in a sing-song voice.

He’s so fucking chipper, I want to fling the eggs off my fork so they splat right between his eyes. I stab my next bite a bit harder than strictly necessary.

I’m mostly annoyed at myself for the slip up if I’m being honest. But really, penny for my thoughts? This is what I get for teaching him muggle phrases.

“How ‘bout a quarter for your silence, Prongs. It’s too damn early, don’t start with me.”

“Oh alright Grumpy-Two-Shoes, play coy then. But something’s on your mind and you, sir, are shit at lying. Wait, what's a quarter?”

I sigh. I am shit at lying, dammit. Luckily I can hide behind an annoyed facade. 

“Breakfast rule #1.”

“Fine,” he says with an eye roll, “but I’m not going to forget.” He points his fork at me in an attempt at intimidation, squints his bespectacled eyes, leans in towards me. I almost laugh. Almost. He's about as intimidating as a Hufflepuff first year. Plus he has quidditch practice soon, and he’ll have forgotten before they toss up the quaffle. I smack his wrist to get him to move his bloody hand from my face.

Breakfast Rule number 1 is Moony does not talk before an entire cup of tea. I happened to be almost finished with my second cup, but no one's counting. Rule number 2 is stash food for Pete if he doesn’t make it down before class, but that doesn’t apply to weekends so I pile up another plate. Again, no one's counting.

“So um, where’s Padfoot?” I ask this nonchalantly, cautiously schooling my voice to conceal the excitement that surges through my chest at just mentioning his name. I’m such an idiot. Goddamn it I’m so fucked. It was such a good fuck I could cry. Shit, I’m distracting myself again. Because its not just the fucking, not anymore, not for a while now. It’s _him_. All of him, any and every part of him. It’s the mere thought of him. And I can’t keep him out of my brain. It’s maddening and distracting and absolutely wonderful and it’s driving me insane. It’s the sweetest of torments. It must stop this moment and I never want it to end.

“Do you know he was in the _shower_ when I left! He’s such a fucking diva. Who the hell showers before practice!? Honestly!”

I nod and roll my eyes like I agree. I sip my tea casually, like it’s no big deal, like I’m not suddenly picturing said diva very naked in a very steamy shower… back muscles flexing and cascading water running down to his beautiful backside. He has bruises from my fingertips on his hips and... Fuck I need to change the subject right now. My brain is beginning to provide me with a multi-sensory highlight reel from last night. His fingertips sliding down my sides, his moans, his sighs, his shivers. 

“Uhh… You alright there, Mate? You look flushed or something all of a sudden.”

Shit. 

“Oh um. Yeah. Fine. Fine, just didn’t sleep that much last night.” Strictly speaking that’s true. We definitely did not sleep that much last night.

I shrug it off to downplay his concern. He nods in solidarity and kindness. He pours me more tea.

Merlin, he’s such a good friend to me. I’m hit with a surge of affection for him, and the Marauder in me hates it that we’re still keeping this from him. We never meant to keep secrets from them. It’s just that we had so much to figure out for ourselves. We had to be sure of _us_ first. We weren’t even sure what to say to each other, much less explain it to James and Pete. 

I’m still not exactly sure how it all happened. It just sort of unfolded, bloomed slowly over time, and we just...didn’t fight it. Lingering looks built into sexual tension. The tension spilled over into getting each other off. Then we just kept having fun and fooling around. It was so easy, I mean, we were already best friends.

And then one night we couldn’t fool ourselves anymore. And after that it was just fools... falling in love. Madness.

Now I’m so fucking gone for him I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m terrified and I’m thrilled and I still can’t believe that I’m living out my wildest dreams. 

And the fact that he has kept this from _James_ to make sure we get it right _…_ James, his best friend. James, his brother. James, his partner in crime. James, who he shares _everything_ with. His James. His rock and ride-or-die for all things. Well, that alone tells me what this means to him. 

I know he’ll tell James everything any day now. I’ll be relieved. They’re incapable of keeping things away from each other. Symbiotic, those two. And I love that about them. I love that they have each other that way. I have them in other ways. I was worried at first, but over these past months I’ve seen how our little family can shift and adapt. I’ve lost my goddamn mind and actually allowed myself to hope, to dream of a - dare I say it - a future. With them. With him.

And then, as if the universe has heard my silent longings, he comes strutting into the Hall, hands in his pockets, smirk on his face. He walks with a stride and an arrogance and I know he knows. He knows exactly what he does to a room. He looks like he owns the place, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he knows that suddenly all the panties are damp and the trousers are tenting. Cocky Bastard. It’s hot as fuck and annoying as hell. I want to shout to the room that he’s with me! I want to run to him. I want to kiss him. I want him.

I scan him from head to toe. How can I not. He’s my wet dreams personified. His hair is pulled in a haphazard bun high on his head, wand speared through sideways. It accentuates his long, elegant neck and broad, strong shoulders. His practice uniform is just this side of too tight and I know he did that on purpose. It’s gripping to all the delectable lines, curves, angles, and swells of his body just right. It also looks well worn and stained as hell, but somehow this just adds to the aesthetic of his athleticism. His long, strong legs move like he’s dancing instead of walking. He is a dichotomy of elegance and chaos. And he’s mine.

My heart almost lurches out my chest and I have to catch myself because I’m leaning towards him without a conscious thought.

James huffs out a laughs next to me. I freeze thinking I’ve just outed myself.

“Idiot. You showered just to put on that old, dirty ass uniform!?”

“And yet I still look better than you could ever dream of Prongsie-poo.” He sits on my right, pressing his left leg into mine. I pick up my tea with my left hand and nonchalantly drop my right down to the top of his knee. He casually makes a plate.

“Moony. Good to see you eating this close to your monthly date with madness,” he says calmly.

“Ohh, I date madness with much more frequency than once a month.”

He tries not to, but he smiles with his whole face and it makes my day, my month, my year. He drops his left hand and his fingertips run over mine. My whole body laser focuses on the up and down, up and down of his fingers. I want to close my eyes, to relax into his touch. I want to drop my head on his shoulder. I want to kiss him good morning. 

Up and down. Up and down. He can stop my entire world with just his fingertips. _I love you_ they say. I flip my hand, letting my fingertips drag against his before lacing our fingers together. _So goddamn much_ I say back.

“Padfoot, we need to run those dive drills today. And bludger blocking maneuvers. Don’t let me forget.”

“Mmhmm,” is all he says, chewing his food.

“I’m thinking we need to stay defense-minded with drills today."

"Mmhmm."

"I mean, it’s Hufflepuff coming up so we’ll be fine, but it’s still a game we need to win. Plus, the Snakes are coming in a few weeks so every minute counts.”

“Mmhmm.”

I’m confused. This is supposed to be the part of our Saturday morning where they launch into at least twenty minutes of quidditch talk and I get to read a chapter in peace, if not quiet. James is confused too.

“Pads?”

“Huh? I mean, yes. Defense. I agree.”

He begins eating again but something seems off. He’s too quiet and too still. He’s never quiet. Or still. 

I glance at James, but he and his bacon seem to be happy together.

I look back to him, even turn a bit trying to catch his eye, but he’s looking resolutely at his plate.

Something is happening with him. He’s quiet in bed after much _persuasion_ on my part. Or he’s asleep… or… or he’s plotting! Shit. He’s plotting. The only thing more unpredictable than the Marauders plotting together, is a Marauder plotting alone. Especially this particular one. 

I am both unnerved and enamored by the fact that I never know what he will do next. I’m not sure he knows either most of the time. He’s impulsive and fucking brilliant.

I squeeze his hand in a silent question. _What’s up?_

When he squeezes my hand, takes a deep breath, and sits up straight, I brace for impact.

“Jamie. Did you know you were the only man I’ve ever loved?”

“Why Padfoot, it’s not even our anniversary.”

“The only man I’ve ever loved… until now.”

Suddenly I’m on a roller coaster that has just crested the hill top on a runaway race downwards. I squeeze his hand back with a _I beg pardon,_ _what the fuck is happening_ face.

He turns and looks into my eyes. I see the mischief there but also the question, the hesitation. The fact that he pauses here, that he considers me in this moment, that he would wait for me… it solidifies something deep in my soul. We are truly in this together.

He’s waiting but he’s sure. His confidence is contagious I suppose. I take a deep breath and jump off the cliff too.

“Yes James, you were the only one, until about 6 weeks ago I’d say, give or take.” I say this and I’m relieved that my voice didn’t give away the fact that I’m pretty much having a nervous breakdown. We’re actually doing this?? Now??

“Bit longer than that for me I’m afraid.” He smiles that whole face smile again. 

“Really?” I’m genuinely shocked. We’ve been fooling around for upwards of six months, but the wave of intensity and emotions is a much more recent thing.

“Well yeah. Thought you knew.” His voice is shy. Holy shit is he blushing? This sex on legs, devil may care, can have anyone he wants is blushing. And staring into my soul.

“Oh thank fuck!!” James shouts way too loud for the Great Hall. We have eyes on us from everyone nearby. James waves like the Queen of England and people turn away, used to his antics.

“I’ve been waiting for weeks for you two idiots to tell me! How long have you been fucking, huh?”

I almost spit out my tea.

“Jesus, Prongs.” His voice is half upset, half laughing. He smiles at James but looks back at me.

“Nah, don’t tell me. I don’t want to lose my breakfast. I’m just relieved you gits finally stopped fucking around and started fucking. Damn! I owe Pete 10 quib.”

He has rendered us both silent, quite an accomplishment considering the average words per minute that usually take place between Marauders.

“You- you knew!? The fuck? How!? Prongs we were going to tell you, Mate, I swear to Merlin. We just had to figure stuff out first before we even knew what to say and we’re not just fooling around here. I mean we were fooling around at first, but then we weren’t and then -” There it is. He’s speaking so fast it sounds like he’s making up the lost time in those moments of silence earlier. “Moony and I, we’re, well, we’re together, you know. Like Together-together, Mate. We’re serious about this and don’t you fucking dare James Potter! I heard it.”

James is silent for a moment, eyes wide. I genuinely don’t know what he’s going to say. My stomach drops. Oh my god. What if we’ve messed this all up? What if we’ve really hurt him? What if stops speaking to us? What if-

“My babies are IN LOVE!?”

Everyone looks our way again for a moment.

“Prongs! How ‘bout you not announce it to the entire fucking hall!” He whisper shouts urgently, leaning in to make his point. He glances at me again, tightens his fingers in my hand. He looks nervous, like I’m going to bolt on him or something. Fuck that.

We’ve been sneaking around, hiding this thing for so long, it’s exhausting. Not to mention the fact that I want to shout that I love him from the Astronomy Tower. 

“Pads.”

“Moony, we’re sorry. He’s just being a shit. He’s fooling around, but he’ll stop, _right_ Prongs? We won’t-“

“Sirius. I love you.”

James is not the only one who can render a Black speechless, thank you very much.

“I- I love you too!”

I take both his hands now, as we turn full towards each other.

“I don’t care if the whole school knows. Sirius, I couldn’t be happier. This is beyond my wildest dreams. _You_ are beyond my wildest dreams.”

“Holy shit! Moony that was smooth as fuck! Who knew! Our Little Moony is -“

“James. Shut the fuck up.” He speaks to James but his eyes haven’t left mine. I may just kiss that smile off his face, right here, right now, with all these eyes to see. I wasn’t kidding about not caring anymore. I catch myself leaning in.

“Moony…” he whispers.

“Not to break up your breakfast date or anything, but we’re gonna be late for practice Padfoot.”

“Shit,” he says and the bubble pops. Here I am stressing about some giant reveal that will shake the Marauders to their core and all Potter can think about is fucking quidditch. Typical.

“Moony, walk me to practice?”

“I have to, Padfoot. Your still holding my hands.”

“Oh fucking hell! You guys are going to be gross and in love all the time now, huh!? Fuck me I didn’t think about that part.” James throws up his hands, abruptly stands and tries to look like he’s storming off. If only he didn’t have a giant, cheesy grin giving him away.

“Ready?” I say and take a deep breath, a sigh of relief.

“Ready.”

“Stop smiling like that unless you want me to snog you in the Great Fucking Hall.”

He tips his head all the way back, smiles impossibly wider, and closes his eyes in bliss.

I’m nervous about everyone knowing about this thing that’s so precious to me. I’m nervous about the shift in dynamics and the inevitable effect this will have on our lives. But when he’s smiling up at me like that, all those thoughts seem very distant and very small. They are no match for the way he shines. He is smiling and I am soaring.

I can contain myself no longer. I must kiss him. 

I place my fingertips on the side of his face, tilt it towards me, and kiss him full on the mouth. In a hall full of people. It’s quick but it happens.

A small laugh bubbles up out of him. Just kill me now, he’s so fucking _happy_. I don't think my feet are on the floor. I don’t think this day could get any better. What the fuck is happening to me? I can’t stop smiling. 

I run my fingertips along his checks. _I love you_ they say. He brings his hand up to cup my jaw, _so damn much_ he says back.

We walk out of the Hall and through the foyer hand in hand, gawkers be damned.

“Come on you snails! I have about a million inappropriate jokes that I’ve been saving up just waiting for this day and it’s finally time to unleash them all!”

“I’m going to have to punch him,” I say with a somber face, like it’s an inevitability. 

“Not if I punch him first.”

We make eye contact and pause for a beat. I raise my eyebrows at him. Then we take off, sprinting together out into the sunshine.

And yeah ok, I’m laughing like an idiot and I guess morning aren’t _entirely_ awful... as long as they’re like this one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please leave me a comment let me know what you think.
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr @crusinwritealong


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